


Smoke and Grace

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abstract Sex, M/M, smoke and grace sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Abstract porn thought experiment, doesn't make a lick of canonical sense seeing as Cas' grace is borrowed and Dean probably doesn't have smoke because he's not technically possessing someone, so, but let's pretend Cas can express himself as grace and Dean can express himself as smoke)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Grace

Castiel’s grace was a bright heat , pure celestial intent and divine wrath. It was imprinted with his memory and his belief, a sum total of all he was and all he could have been. He was accustomed to existing as a non corporeal entity comprised of abstract purpose that could express itself with a thought. He was ideas and energy.

It was ironic that his grace contained within a corporeal vessel had never truly been able to get through to the righteous man. He always felt stymied by the limitations of his bodily expression when he possessed a vessel. Bodies were physical and limited, they were finite, organic, flawed. The essence of a self and the truth of a soul was something trapped within a physical body and it was impossible to ever truly, absolutely, communicate between physical bodies, there were too many filters, too many interpretations through the medium, to communicate mind to mind. 

He had failed Dean when they were limited by these expressions, but now they both had the ability to flee their physical bodies and communicate directly from mind to mind. To brush their essences against one another and let their energies bleed and seep directly one to another.

It would figure that Dean, even for as inexperienced as he was at communicating by these means, would figure out how to twist and corrupt such communication. Well he was a demon after all. His smoke was tainted by all the history of corporeality his sole bore, as though it were still a carnal creature of indulgence and want. Castiel felt there was so much he could give, and teach, to Dean, of control and knowledge and power, but it seemed Dean were interested in other matters.

Castiel had been touched grace to grace like this before with his brothers. They did not call it sex or lust, for it was something else, those were expressions of creatures with bodies and clearly defined boundaries of self and other. The merging of grace and the sensation of experiencing another celestial being raw and open, that was something else entirely.

But this, this was new to Castiel as well, the way Dean’s smoke felt, a slick hot thing, an ichor, something fevered and ill and wrong. It was vaguely familiar, Dean’s soul had been corrupted by hell when Castiel had raised him and made him anew, but the angel was capable of burning away the demonic residue that clung to him them. He doubted he could purify Dean now, as a knight, something made and changed irrevocable. 

Perhaps it was wrong but he still longed to know Dean as this, to push his grace along the other’s periphery, to touch his demonic soul with grace and feel the jolting burn in his core. Dean pushed back, writhing, dissipating and reforming, engulfing him and breaking apart with curling wisps that reformed and clung and crawled along Cas’ grace. It was wrong and terrifying and painful but there was something familiar, something pleading in Dean as they twisted together as energy and expression. 

Castiel could not describe it, he had no words as he had never committed an act like this before, but it felt more solid. As though perhaps the opposition of the fundamental composition of their energies concentrated in a tangibility. Castiel pushed through the other, trying to show Dean, trying to slide against him, but Dean kept twining around and around, restless, seeking, tendrils of smoke leaking lines of corruption in his grace that stung. Around and around, wrapping Castiel up with pulsating fervent energy until it crested and broke, seeping into one another, burning away and crawling with needling pinpricks, constricted, loose, conflicting sensation and writhing surge of smoke and grace. 

Castiel knew he couldn’t purify Dean without exorcising his soul, but if he could control the other, wrap up his demonic energy in grace and light, perhaps there was some small chance he could still have Dean as the righteous man he had once known.


End file.
